


midnights

by dyintherain



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Coming of Age, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Friendship, Getting Together, High School to College and Beyond, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Fluff, generous sprinkling of Taylor Swift references, just me being softfordoyu TM, side jaeyong, tiny bit of johnten, winkun if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:47:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28454112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dyintherain/pseuds/dyintherain
Summary: Memories of past New Year’s Eves play behind his eyes, and Doyoung realizes that this date, along with many others in the calendar, will forever be Yuta’s in his heart. He finds that he’s okay with that.orDoyoung and Yuta's story, told through the five times they spent New Year's Eve together, and the one time they didn't.
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Nakamoto Yuta
Comments: 21
Kudos: 98





	midnights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pinksatan77](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinksatan77/gifts).



> karlaaa~ the doyu christmas fic except now it's NYE and sprinkled with some jaeyong :D

**2015**

Doyoung sits bored on one corner of the couch, mindlessly scrolling through his Instagram feed. He can feel the beginning of a headache coming, what with multi-colored lights dancing around his field of vision and _Cake By the Ocean_ blasting out of his tiny bluetooth speakers on his right. His mother’s Santa Claus figurine stands beside it, judging him.

Well, Doyoung admits that he himself is to blame for all this—and Taeyong, of course. _Mostly_ Taeyong.

He comes across Taeyong’s latest post in his feed—a picture of him in Doyoung’s own living room from just an hour ago, with foil balloons in blue and gold on the ceiling, confetti and glitter on the floor. (He knew it would be a pain to clean up later, but Taeyong insisted and brought out his puppy dog eyes trump card. Really, what could Doyoung do?)

 _NYE party at Kim DY’s!! Pull up!_ 😍😜, Taeyong eloquently captioned it.

When his best friend first asked him to throw a New Year’s Eve party at his house (the only sensible course of action, apparently, after Doyoung’s whole family jetted off to New York to spend the rest of the holidays there), he unwittingly agreed with the assumption that it would be a lowkey affair—just Taeyong’s friends from Dance and Doyoung’s from Theater. But of course, Doyoung has forgotten just how wide Taeyong’s social circle extends to—that is, about almost half of their whole senior class. So now he’s here, in the corner and feeling out of place in his own party, in his own living room, having his _Perks of Being A Wallflower_ moment as his eyes stay glued on his phone while his schoolmates dance and sing (more like _shout_ , really) and subtly make their way through his house’s branching hallways to do things Doyoung didn’t want to dwell on.

 _God_ , he’ll have a lot of cleaning to do in the morning.

The couch sags for a moment as someone drops down beside him. Doyoung doesn’t look up, but he manages to catch a glint of some earrings in his peripheral vision. (Piercings are not allowed in their backwards high school, so best bet Taeyong goes all out with his accessories whenever they’re any place but there.)

“I can’t believe I missed New York for this,” Doyoung instantly grumbles, punctuated with a long-suffering sigh, to his best friend. Except—he finally slides his gaze away from his phone and finds that the newcomer on the couch is not Taeyong at all.

“ _Oh,_ ” he lets out, eyes slightly widening—not just at the surprise of finding it’s not Taeyong, but also at finding _him_ instead. “Sorry, I thought you were Taeyong.”

The boy beside him shrugs, smiling. “You’re actually not the first one to get mistaken tonight. It’s the hair, right?”

Doyoung tilts his head, considering him. He’s got five piercings on the ear that’s facing Doyoung’s side, each one filled with a silver earring—Doyoung finds his eyes specifically straying to the one hanging from the helix, a short cable chain ending in a tiny cross. He gets the sudden urge to flick it softly with his fingers.

The boy inclines his head slightly, mimicking Doyoung’s tilted angle, and Doyoung takes in a quick breath at the sight of the chain following the gesture and swaying slightly against the boy’s ear, feeling like he moved it with his thought.

 _Dear god_ , he’s never had one drink tonight, but maybe it’s possible to get drunk by proximity or something, considering that he’s been sitting close to the keg that Johnny and his merry band came with for most of the night.

“Yeah,” Doyoung clears his throat to answer. “And the piercings, I guess.”

The boy grins wide at him. “You _do_ answer rhetorical questions!” he exclaims, and Doyoung blinks – wondering what the hell that means and where it came from. But before he can ask, the boy tilts his chin up at him. “Kim Doyoung, right?”

Doyoung nods, “And you are?” 

The boy lets out a laugh, “Hah, nice.”

Doyoung’s lips almost involuntarily curl up in a disbelieving smirk. He knows who this boy is, of course – Nakamoto Yuta: soccer team captain, lead guitarist of that one non-sucky band from last year’s festival, and apparently, ego personified. Doyoung tries to maintain a confused face. “No, seriously—who are you?” he asks, just to be petty.

He sees Yuta open his mouth, then close it again after a second. Doyoung leans back on the couch, internally celebrating at the increasingly flustered look on the other boy’s face as he tries to come up with a reply. Finally, he seems to settle for, “I’m Yuta. We go to school together?”

And Doyoung almost smiles at him in apology for the uncalled for snark, until Yuta adds – “You seriously don’t know me?”

Doyoung rolls his eyes. “Am I supposed to?” he asks.

Yuta is looking at him with wide eyes and a slightly gaping mouth. “It’s just—never mind,” he shakes his head then faces forward, stretching his legs toward the coffee table in front of them. “I’m just not used to people not recognizing me.”

Doyoung scoffs. “Oh my god, are you for real?” he laughs, looking at Yuta incredulously. “You are not the celebrity that you think you are,” he says then stands up from the couch.

If he had his way, he would never have left that cozy corner for the entire night, but Doyoung figures a remark like that is best punctuated with a walk out, so walk out from his own living room he does.

He sighs, then figures he might as well go look for Taeyong now.

It’s New Year’s Eve and their senior year of high school—a perfect combination, it seems, for everyone to slip out of their inhibitions for the night. Doyoung can feel it too. Sort of.

Freedom hanging around their heads with only six months left of high school and after that, summer and the college unknown. The almost tangible thrill in the air at the thought of soon leaving this town for good and not seeing most of these faces until probably the tenth-year class reunion. All these, plus the beer (probably 90% the beer) equal to his friends and non-friends wildly gyrating and hollering in every space of his ground floor (increasingly, as the night grows), and the other half sucking faces in the house’s dark corners.

His best friend, much to Doyoung’s disappointment, turns out to be part of the latter half.

“For fuck’s sake,” Doyoung groans when he finally finds Taeyong pressed up against one of the hallways branching out from the kitchen. Taeyong’s eyes snap open at his voice. “Hey! Doyoung!” he manages to yell before his mouth is once again taken over by… “Jaehyun, wait,” Taeyong moans as Doyoung fake-gags.

“Oh, hey Doyoung!” Jaehyun says, turning around as Taeyong pushes his chest back.

Doyoung grimaces in greeting. He takes Taeyong’s wrist and drags him further down the hallway which leads to the back door. “To be continued!” he hears Taeyong shout over his shoulder. Doyoung sighs as he pushes the door open.

“It’s freezing!” Taeyong exclaims as the door shuts behind them.

“Jaehyun, really?” Doyoung says with crossed arms.

Taeyong hugs himself then shrugs. “He’s cute!”

He _is_ , Doyoung has to admit. He starts to nod, but he shakes his head instead halfway through because _that’s beside the point_. “Don’t tell me you made me throw this party just for that set of dimples?” Doyoung hisses, pointing at the door. “I can’t believe I missed New York for this,” he crosses his arms, repeating the words he misspoke to Yuta from earlier because he’s actually been dying to say that to Taeyong.

“First of all,” Taeyong says, pointing a finger up in the air, “I merely _suggested_ you throw this party. You know I would have done it if my house was even half as big as your mansion. Second, I can’t believe you’re blaming _that_ on me? You said you wanted your first New York trip to be with _me_ and not your family, I have that text saved—”

“I—”

“And _third_ ,” Taeyong continues, cutting him off. “It’s _really_ cold, Doie. Can we fake-fight inside?”

Doyoung sighs and pulls the door open again. Taeyong immediately runs back inside with Doyoung on his heels. “Ugh, Renjun sent me a picture of him in Times Square earlier,” Doyoung whines as they walk back to the party. “I’m having serious FOMO.”

“Times Square? Do you really want to be in that crowd right now?” Taeyong asks.

“Is this any different, though?” Doyoung gestures around them as they walk back to the packed living room. Yuta’s gone from the couch. Not that Doyoung specifically looked.

Taeyong rolls his eyes. “At least it’s all people we know.”

Doyoung turns to him with arms crossed over his chest. “Speaking of people we know— _Jung Jaehyun_?”

Doyoung’s friendly enough with him—their moms being in the same book club and all—but he has to admit he doesn’t know much about Jaehyun except for 1) he’s also in the soccer team, and 2) he’s the school’s resident serial dater. (The first word that actually comes to mind is one that starts with _fuck_ and ends with _boy_ , but Doyoung can’t bring himself to categorize Jaehyun as such because—dimples.)

“Oh my god, lay off of me!” Taeyong whisper-shouts, eyes looking around at their schoolmates, which is unnecessary, since someone seems to have turned the music volume louder that now no one can hear anything beyond two feet in front of them. “It’s just harmless fun.”

Doyoung stares at him. “You know his reputation!”

“Okay, you’ve watched way too many cliche high school movies!” Taeyong has the audacity to laugh at him. “I mean, does he date someone new every three months and leaves a trail of broken hearts everywhere he goes?”

Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “More like _three weeks_.”

“—Yes,” Taeyong answers himself. “But it’s not like I want to date him! We’re graduating next year, I’m not about to get into a relationship _now._ ”

“I sure hope not.”

“Harmless fun,” Taeyong says again, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

“Dear lord,” Doyoung sighs out.

“Come on, let’s go find you someone to make out with so you can leave me alone,” Taeyong pulls at Doyoung’s arm but he swats it away.

“No thanks, and fuck off.”

Taeyong pouts.

Doyoung exhales deeply. “Whatever, go have ‘fun’ with Jaehyun. I’m just gonna be here biding my time till I can say ‘I told you so’ once you find out it’s not harmless at all.”

“Please,” Taeyong scoffs. “With dimples like that?”

Doyoung scoffs back at him. “ _Especially_ with dimples like that.”

Doyoung makes his way outside to his front porch when the clock strikes 11:45. It’s much quieter here, with no one really daring to venture outside in this cold. He sits down on the steps, feeling ridiculous in his big puffy coat outside his own well-heated home. But he’ll take this over the stuffy feeling inside any time.

It’s not that he regrets throwing this New Year’s Eve shindig. Despite the usual teenage debauchery to be expected in a high school party, his schoolmates were actually pretty decent in treating the place. (That, and of course Doyoung having the foresight to keep away breakable items locked up before his guests started coming in.) And he does love being a host, even though he only gets few opportunities considering that his parents both work from home and are never away on any business trips on weekends. He’s had quite a good time chatting up with his close friends, too, once he was forced to get out of his couch corner after that interaction with Yuta. (The spot never became available again throughout the night, so Doyoung decided he might as well just roam around and talk to his guests.)

His phone lights up at notifications from Renjun, and Doyoung opens his messages to see a flood of photos that his younger brother took throughout the night. Okay, he maybe kind of wishes he went with his family after all, but Taeyong _was_ telling the truth that Doyoung wants his first New York trip with him. He loves his parents and Renjun with all his heart but they’re also not the best travel companions. Renjun, for one, tends to be really grumpy after a long flight, and his parents are the classic tourist types who just go to the main attractions to take a few dozen pictures before moving on to the next one. Doyoung is far too in love with the city to not cherish his first trip there with his current favorite person. (No offense to his mom and dad and brother.)

There’s a sudden chorus of yells from inside that distracts him from his thoughts. Doyoung can faintly make out some _10… 9…_ counting _,_ so he looks down at his phone and sees that it’s already 11:59. He silently mouths along with the countdown, until an even louder cheer erupts from inside, at the same time that the first set of fireworks explode in the sky above him.

It gets quiet for a moment inside the house, no doubt everyone pairing up to share their New Year’s kiss.

Does he wish he also has someone to share this moment with? _Maybe_. But Doyoung’s not too bothered. It’s not like there’s anyone in there that he’s interested in. He looks back at the front window of the house briefly, getting a glimpse of the celebration happening inside. Out of the corner of his eye, he seems to catch a glint of silver among the crowd.

He shakes his head, turning his attention to the sky again.

Their neighboring village always holds a spectacular fireworks display, and this year is no exception. Doyoung leans back, propping his hands behind him so he can more comfortably look up. It’s a lovely sight—lights in every color, dancing and exploding into different shapes and lines, before the leftover sparks fall down like a rainshower.

It’s moments like these that make him feel the most hopeful for what’s to come—not just graduation and college but... _life_ in general. The thought of maybe coming back here next year from university, when this is no longer his house but just his ‘parent’s place’, seeing the same fireworks display but as a whole other person with new experiences makes his mouth stretch into a wide grin. His friends always like to joke around about the pains of getting old and being adults soon, and Doyoung usually laughs along with them, but deep inside he’s really looking forward to everything life has to offer—which he recognizes is cheesy as hell, but who’s judging him in his own thoughts?

He doesn’t know how long he stays there, but the fireworks display is still in full swing when the front door creaks open behind him.

“Done kissing Jaehyun already?” Doyoung says without turning around, and a few seconds later a pair of converse-clad feet appears beside him. Well, that’s not Taeyong.

He looks up to see that it’s none other than Yuta— _again._ Doyoung _really_ has to start looking at people before opening his mouth.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you’d be here,” Yuta says sheepishly, looking down at him. “I just saw the fireworks from the window and wanted to watch.” He makes a move to turn and go back inside, but Doyoung stops him.

“It’s alright, there’s plenty of room here.” He scoots to the side and pats the empty spot beside him.

“Are you sure?”

Doyoung frowns. “Of course. I’m not allergic to people.”

Yuta chuckles at that, then drops his butt down at the wooden step a bit forcefully that he bounces a little. Doyoung flinches slightly, because that’s got to hurt, right? A brief thought occurs to him that this is probably just how Yuta is—always dropping down with full force or crashing headlong into things, not doing anything halfway. Which is—a weird thought, _god_ did he really get all that from how someone _sits down_?

The lights continue to dance and explode above them, and Doyoung gets so lost in it that he almost forgets Yuta’s presence until he suddenly speaks. “Who’s done kissing Jaehyun?”

Doyoung lets out a surprised laugh. “Taeyong,” he says before he can think, then slaps a hand to his mouth, realizing he just exposed his best friend like that. But he puts it back down after a while because—then again, it’s not like Taeyong himself was being exactly subtle making out with Jaehyun in the middle of the hallway.

“Ooh,” Yuta says with a grimace. At that, Doyoung turns to him with narrowed eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I—I mean,” Yuta stammers out. “You _must_ have heard about how Jaehyun is, right? He’s a nice guy and all, one of my best friends, really. But… he’s not exactly the best at relationships.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Doyoung says curtly, feeling like he needs to defend Taeyong even though he had the same stance earlier. “Taeyong’s not one to fall for that. He’s just in it for harmless fun.” He cringes, hoping Taeyong didn’t somehow magically hear Doyoung using his same words from inside the house.

“Oh, okay. Good for him,” Yuta says. The words would normally make Doyoung bristle, but Yuta says it in a no-nonsense manner that Doyoung just hums in response.

Yuta bends, hugging his knees, a sharp contrast to Doyoung’s leaned back position that Doyoung gets a view of his other ear’s piercings from the back. Looking at them strangely makes Doyoung hyper-aware of his own unpierced ears. He brings a hand to his left lobe almost unconsciously, rubbing it and considering getting it pierced next year. Maybe that’s the kind of person he’ll be in university.

He hastily drops his hand back down when Yuta turns to stare at him.

“I’m sorry, by the way.”

“Huh?” Doyoung frowns at the sudden apology. Sure, it would be nice if he was left alone here but it’s not like he’d really get irate at someone who also just wants to watch the fireworks. “It’s really fine, I don’t own this porch,” he says but then realizes what he just said. “Well, okay I do. But you know what I mean.”

Yuta’s eyes widen. “This is your house?”

“You didn’t know?”

“I honestly just got dragged here by Jaehyun,” he says, shrugging. “And I meant, sorry for earlier.”

Doyoung raises an eyebrow.

“I realized that was so arrogant of me, acting like it was an affront to my whole being—you not knowing me, I mean.”

Doyoung nods in understanding. “Ahh.” He regards Yuta curiously. He’s surprised, to be honest. He didn’t really have much of an opinion about the boy before this evening apart from the purely objective observation that he’s quite attractive—which he voiced out to Taeyong one day earlier this year when they passed by a blown up tarpaulin of the soccer team in the hallway, and which Taeyong has never let him live down since. But Doyoung has to admit that their conversation on the couch tonight _did_ paint him in a bad light. Ego personified, he remembers thinking.

“To be fair, I _did_ know who you are,” he confesses.

Yuta straightens up and points at him. “Hah, so I’m right! I mean, I only reacted that way because I was certain you’d know me. Like, it’s a big school, whatever, and we never had any classes together, but we do bump into each other in the halls, you know? And we have the same lunch hour—”

“Okay, don’t push it,” Doyoung cuts off his rambling.

Yuta chuckles, then puts a hand on his nape in an endearingly shy gesture that Doyoung has a hard time reconciling with the haughty image he had of him from the whole _I’m just not used to people not recognizing me_ thing.

“What?” Yuta asks him, and Doyoung realizes he’s been openly staring. He gulps, turning to look at the sky again. “Nothing, I’m just... reconfiguring my opinion of you,” he says honestly.

“And?”

“And what?” Doyoung asks back, eyes still turned upward.

“What’s the verdict?”

“Well, you have a cool fashion sense, I’d give you that. You got quite an ego but I now also think you’re self-aware enough that it doesn’t make you a prick. Yet. It can really fester so you should keep yourself in check,” Doyoung lists off in one breath.

Yuta snorts. “Wow. Thanks, I guess…?”

Doyoung finally turns to look at him. The chain with the tiny cross hanging from Yuta’s ear catches his attention again, and before he can think clearly, his hand reaches out, seemingly having a mind of its own, and flicks it slightly.

Yuta blinks, as Doyoung retracts his hand quickly and feels blood rushing up his cheeks as he faces forward again. _What the fuck was that?_

“Did—” Yuta says. “Did you just _flick_ my earring?”

Doyoung bites his lip. “I’m thinking of getting my ear pierced,” he says simply. He slides his gaze towards Yuta, head still facing forward, and winces at the dumbfounded look on the other boy’s face.

“Was that rude? I’m sorry, it’s just—” Doyoung starts to explain, but Yuta bursts out laughing.

“No, not rude! I mean, _weird_ , but not rude.”

Doyoung stares at him again, and the worried knit on his forehead disappears as he sees genuine amusement on Yuta’s face. _God_ , this is why he rarely stays up past midnight. Apparently, this is the time when he does stupid things that his usually sensible brain keeps him from doing in the daylight.

Mirth disappears from Yuta’s features as he stares back at Doyoung. Doyoung wants to look away, but it’s quite a hypnotizing sight—half of Yuta’s face shrouded by the night, illuminated every few seconds by the different lights from the fireworks going off overhead.

“I—” Yuta starts to say, but the door creaks open again, making them both jump slightly.

“He...ey,” Taeyong’s voice trails off as he takes in the sight in front of him.

“Taeyong!” Doyoung shoots up from his sitting position, faintly registering that his tone sounds too much like Taeyong’s when he caught him with Jaehyun in the hallway earlier. Which is—why would it be, when this is _nothing_ like that? Doyoung clears his throat.

“Came to wish you a happy New Year,” Taeyong says, eyes still darting curiously between Doyoung and Yuta. “But,” he continues, a playful smirk forming on his lips. “Seems like you’re already having one.”

Doyoung scowls and tackles him in the guise of an affectionate best friend hug. “Happy New Year, Yong.”

“ _I’m going to kill you_ ,” he adds in a quiet whisper. Taeyong just laughs.

Yuta stands up, too, dusting the back of his jeans with his hands. “Happy New Year, you two.” He smiles at the two of them then goes back inside. Doyoung realizes he never got to hear what Yuta was about to say just before Taeyong joined them outside.

For the rest of the year, he’ll wonder about that.

Doyoung’s living room gradually empties out as the New Year’s Eve high wears off and people start to get too drunk to even stand. He gets busy making sure that each group that leaves has a designated sober driver with them. He’s ready to offer up his couch and the spare sleeping bags they have for those who don’t, but everyone seems to have thought the post-party logistics through. Huh, maybe his schoolmates aren’t as irresponsible as he initially thought.

At 2AM, the last of his friends are wobbling their way out of his front door—except for Wendy, who’s still smiling brightly (and soberly) at Doyoung. “Thanks for the party, Doie.”

“Yeah! Thanks for the party, Doie!” Joy parrots her, slurring a little. She untangles herself from Wendy’s hold and comes over to Doyoung, placing a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

“Ugh,” Doyoung groans as he wipes it off, but he’s also smiling at Joy’s antics. “My god, you’re a clingy drunk!”

“Mwah!” Joy sends a flying kiss as she hoists her high heels over her shoulder, having taken them off hours ago. Wendy shakes her head, smiling, as she guides Joy outside.

“Take care!” Doyoung calls to them as the front door shuts. He sighs, plopping down on the couch. “And… that’s the last of them,” he murmurs to himself.

“Hey,” a sudden voice calls out behind him, causing him to almost fall off the sofa.

“Yuta?! Why are you still here?”

“Uh, have you seen Jaehyun? He’s my ride,” Yuta says.

Doyoung stands up from the couch, rubbing his eyes and holding back a yawn. “I’m not sure… I don’t think—” he pauses and brings his hand back down as he realizes something. _“Oh, he better fucking not_ ,” he mutters to himself as he runs up the stairs. He hears Yuta call out, “Wait!” then a pair of footsteps following him.

He throws open his bedroom door, hoping he won’t see what he thinks he’s about to see because _god_ , he really might just kill Lee Taeyong if he decides to desecrate his bedroom like that. Yuta catches up to him, and Doyoung can’t believe he has the time and frankly, the brain power at this hour, to register that Yuta doesn’t even sound winded whereas Doyoung is breathing so heavily that he feels like he just ran a marathon and not a single staircase.

“Oh,” he exhales with relief when he sees that first - no one’s on his bed, and second - Taeyong is fully clothed and sleeping with his whole body curled up on the floor. Next to him is Jaehyun, seated and leaning back against the wall, also fast asleep. It’s quite an endearing scene, if he’s being honest. Not that he’d ever say that to Taeyong’s face.

“I’ll wake him up,” Yuta says behind him, but Doyoung holds up a hand. “No, it’s fine. He can sleep over. You could, too,” he says as he turns to face Yuta. His cheeks heat up when he finds that there’s not much space for the two of them in the doorway. He steps back, gulping. “Or, you could borrow my car. If you want to go home,” he adds.

Yuta seems to think about this. “Are you sure?”

“No, you know what?” Doyoung says, an idea forming in his mind. “Take Taeyong’s car instead. I have his keys,” he says, knowing how it would irritate Taeyong in the morning.

Yuta smiles. “No, I meant the sleeping over part. Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah, I mean,” Doyoung says, feeling himself continue to blush. “You can stay in the guest room, since I’ll still have to clean up the living room.”

“Oh, I’ll help you,” Yuta says, nonchalant.

Doyoung blinks. “No, no need! I can manage it. Plus, I love cleaning so…”

“What if I tell you I love it too? Would you deny me the pleasure?” Yuta says with a sly smirk that Doyoung can’t help but laugh at.

“I mean, if you’re sure…”

Yuta waves a hand. “Of course, I’m not sleepy yet. Plus my friends and I _did_ contribute to some of the trashing of your living room, so…” he shrugs.

Doyoung smiles slowly. “Okay then.”

Doyoung flicks the light switch on for the living room, then goes to turn off the one for the Christmas lights he draped over the walls. The aftermath of the party glares at them under the bright fluorescent.

“That’s a lot of glitter,” Yuta observes.

Doyoung sighs. “One of these days I’m going to stop listening to Taeyong’s ridiculous ideas.”

Yuta starts picking up the beer bottles and red solo cups littered across the floor, unprompted, and Doyoung’s heart skips a beat—further proof that his brain doesn’t function well after midnight. Seriously, just the sight of a boy _cleaning_?

“Uh, okay so you pick up the trash and I’ll mop the floor,” he says, and Yuta looks up at him with a teasing smile.

“I mean, I see that you’re already doing that, so…” Doyoung mutters, then pivots his body toward the kitchen, chiding himself for all the nonsense he’s doing and saying this night, as he gets some trash bags and tosses them to Yuta across the room. He then walks to the mini storage area they have under the stairs, taking out the mop and some cleaning products.

He gets back to the living room and realizes that he can’t really start mopping until all the trash is picked up, so he gathers the drapes he put over the sofa instead and takes out the throw pillowcases, folding them up to wash later.

“Hey, why did you throw this party?” Yuta asks him after a few quiet seconds.

“Um, it’s Taeyong’s idea actually. Thought it’d be a good way to get a girl,” Doyoung jokes.

Yuta pauses halfway through picking up a deflated balloon. “Oh?”

“I’m kidding! You know he’s gay, right?”

“No, I knew that,” Yuta shakes his head slightly. “I mean… you?”

“Hmm?”

“Did you throw this party to... get a girl?” Yuta asks tentatively, and Doyoung cringes at how it sounds now that Yuta’s repeating it to him. He also feels like it might be a little sexist. _God_ , corny _and_ sexist jokes out of his mouth? Nothing good truly happens after 2AM.

“No,” he coughs out a bit awkwardly, but leaves it at that.

“Oh… good to know,” Yuta says quietly, then resumes going around the living room and filling out the trash bag.

_Good to know?_

“Anyway,” Doyoung says, just to fill the silence, but inside his brain is still screaming, _‘Good to know?’_ “The truth is, my family’s in New York for the holidays, so Taeyong thought we should make use of all the space and throw a party. Plus, it’s senior year and I’ve never really _been_ to a normal high school party, you know?”

“Huh, yeah, I never see you in any of them,” Yuta says, his tone rising up slightly like a half-question.

Doyoung shrugs, the implication getting to him a few beats late. _Never see you in them?_

“Does everyone recognize you in all those parties?” Doyoung teases instead.

Yuta stands straighter at that. “ _Ugh_ , that’s forever going to haunt me. I’m really sorry for how I came across.”

Doyoung looks up at him from fluffing the couch. He didn’t expect for Yuta to be this affected over that simple thing. And to think he was ready to write him off as just another cocky jock. “No, sorry. I didn’t mean to tease you. I just meant—well, okay, I _did_ mean to tease you.”

Yuta laughs, but turns serious immediately. “No, it’s just—what you said earlier? ‘ _You’re not the celebrity that you think you are’_ and... you’re right. Maybe I’m getting too full of myself, but it’s just too easy to slip into, you know? Over the past years, I’ve just been this… soccer golden boy and I’ve come to establish my entire identity around that—”

“Yuta,” Doyoung stops him. “It’s not that deep.”

“It _is_ though,” Yuta says with a sigh, sitting down on the couch, trash bag abandoned at his feet. “We’re going to graduate next year, and soon I’ll be leaving behind this… persona,” he gestures around himself vaguely. “I’m not even going to play soccer in college.”

“You’re not?” This surprises Doyoung, even though he’s not one to follow high school sports. He just knows enough to conclude that Yuta’s a good player, basing off the congratulatory announcements he’s forced to listen to whenever they’d have school-wide assemblies, and the hordes of admirers that Yuta attracts. Although the latter may not be purely from his soccer prowess, Doyoung thinks as he stares at him.

Yuta shakes his head. “Nah, I… I actually got a scholarship. But that school didn’t have a good enough creative writing program, so I turned it down.”

“Creative writing?” Doyoung asks, vaguely aware that he’s just parroting Yuta at this point.

“Yeah, don’t look so surprised!”

“I’m not!” Doyoung protests, but realizes that he is, in fact, surprised at this new information. “Okay, maybe I am, but not in a bad way. It’s not that I don’t think you can write, it’s just… normally not what you’d expect a sports person would choose as a career,” he tries to explain, but feels like he’s still being a little judgmental. “Society hardwired me for this thinking,” he finally huffs instead.

“ _Sports person?_ ” Yuta snorts. “No, I get you, though. My parents were quite… surprised, too, to put it mildly. But I guess I’m also partly to blame. I’ve never really shared my passion for writing with them. I mean, I love soccer - don’t get me wrong, it’s not like they’ve forced me to it. But the more I thought about it as I was doing my college applications, the more I realized that I don’t want to do it for the rest of my life, you know?”

Doyoung nods. He _doesn’t_ know, not exactly—not when he’s always known he wants to study Music Theory and Composition ever since he was a freshman, and basically tailored his whole high school career towards that goal. But he understands where Yuta is coming from, at least.

“But my whole high school life was about soccer,” Yuta continues. “I didn’t even have a writing portfolio to speak of until Mr. Choi helped me put one together last year.” He sighs deeply, then turns timidly to Doyoung. “I’m sorry for oversharing.”

“Psh, it’s fine,” Doyoung assures him. “You must have been carrying that in your chest for a while now, huh?”

Yuta gives him a small smile. “Yeah. Feels nice to actually let it out. Something about cleaning up party trash at 3AM, I guess.”

Doyoung smiles back. “Did you find one with a good writing program?”

“Yeah… I mean, it’s not my dream school. But it’s good—one of my favorite authors actually teaches some undergrad classes there, so I’m excited about that. You?”

“I got into my second choice,” Doyoung says. “And when I thought about it, I realized it’s actually a much better fit for me than my first one, so…” He shrugs. Doyoung _is_ still a little salty about the whole thing, actually, but he doesn’t even dare admit it to himself.

“Good for you.”

Doyoung thinks there’s something about that phrase that really just screams condescension, but again with Yuta it’s just… words that mean what they intend to mean.

Yuta stands up once again to resume cleaning. Doyoung turns, not realizing that he stopped too. “I’ll, uh- just load these into the washing machine,” he says, picking up the fabric he has folded up. Yuta gives him a small nod in reply.

When he gets to the laundry room, the whole conversation with Yuta just… sinks in. Not that there’s any hidden meaning behind his words that are just catching up to him now. It’s more—he feels like he’s just uncovered a whole new layer to this boy who, before this night, was practically just a stranger who breathes the same high school air as him. And Doyoung’s heart is beating too fast in his chest for comfort. Because, damn it, does Yuta really have to be good-looking and cool with all his piercings and on top of _that,_ be kind enough to help him clean up after the party and be so introspective, _and_ be an aspiring writer at that? He may be losing his mind.

He returns to the living room a short while later, stopping in his tracks halfway there because—fuck, he forgot Yuta plays guitar in a band, too. (A band that Doyoung’s quite sure they only formed for the festival showcase, but still.)

He’s still reeling from all these realizations when he gets back, and it’s _really_ not helping that Yuta turns to him with a soft smile as soon as he looks up.

“I’m done, where do I take these?” Yuta says, hefting two giant trash bags in his arms.

 _Dear god_.

“Uh, just put them by the back door. I’ll take them out tomorrow,” Doyoung manages to reply, gesturing towards his left. Yuta nods then walks toward the direction, making sure to lift the bags and not just drag them on the floor. Doyoung heaves out a sigh. Yuta does the bare minimum and his heart feels like doing somersaults across his chest.

He focuses on cleaning the floor then, first sweeping everything to clean out the too small trash that Yuta hasn’t picked up, then wetting it with the cleaning solution and diligently mopping through every surface.

“Where are your towels? I can start wiping off the kitchen counters,” Yuta offers when he’s back.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I can do it myself,” Doyoung says.

“I’m sure you can,” Yuta says, smirking. “But I’d like to help. _Come on_.”

Doyoung bites his lip to keep from smiling, then turns around to point out the cabinet where the towels and kitchen cleaning products are located.

They settle into a quiet routine after a while, Doyoung in the living room and Yuta in the kitchen, and maybe it’s because it’s past 3AM at this point that Doyoung lets himself gush at how domestic this whole moment is and how he never experienced anything like this with another person. Or maybe he did, unknowingly—he and Kun did have that whole all-nighter for last year’s bake sale. But Doyoung doesn’t remember his heart fluttering like this that night. _God_ , he’s really got a crush.

He sleepily continues to cover the living room, fantasizing at the back of his mind about—a smaller place, an apartment high up in one of the city’s skyscrapers, maybe, him and Yuta… oh _god_ , he needs to sleep.

It’s 3:30 when they finally collapse together on the couch, the entirety of Doyoung’s ground floor spotless once again. He’s not sure whether some people made it upstairs during the night and made a mess there, but he did ask them kindly not to—Taeyong being the exception. But that’s for him to worry about tomorrow… er, technically _today_ already.

“Hey, Happy New Year,” Yuta turns to him.

Doyoung blinks blearily at his voice. _Right_ , it’s already 2016, and he spent the first hours of it cleaning. Not that he minds, he realizes, especially with Yuta right there along with him.

“Happy New Year,” he murmurs back. His mind is just about ready to fall asleep, but his body is much too awake for the hour that he can’t bring himself to go upstairs to his bedroom just yet.

“Doyoung…” Yuta says. Doyoung turns to face him.

“Nothing, just… just wanted to say your name,” Yuta says, slurring a little from tiredness, a small smile playing on his lips. If Doyoung didn’t know better, he’d think Yuta was as drunk as the others earlier.

He startles when Yuta’s hand suddenly crawls closer to where his own is resting on the couch. Doyoung stares at it, not daring to take a breath.

Yuta doesn’t take it, as Doyoung expected him to. Instead, he just walks his fingers along Doyoung’s palm, the gesture making him shiver more than he thinks it would if Yuta just straight up clasped his hand in his.

Doyoung looks at him, and finds that Yuta’s eyes are already closed, his breathing starting to even out as the fingers on his hand stop completely. Doyoung smiles, and falls asleep like that.

When he wakes up much later in the day, Taeyong is in his kitchen cooking what smells like bacon. Yuta—and Jaehyun, too, as it turns out—already left hours ago.

Doyoung stays seated on the couch, faintly recognizing a crick in his neck at the position he fell asleep in, and the phantom feeling of fingers dancing across his palm.

**2016**

Doyoung sits on his suitcase, trying to tuck everything in as he struggles to zip it shut. In hindsight, he realizes he should have just done his Christmas shopping at home instead of flying with this one big suitcase that’s basically 90% gifts at this point.

“Doyoung? You ready?” A voice calls out from his dorm room door. Doyoung stands and opens it, finding Jaehyun on the other side with his own less stuffed-looking suitcase and of course, the ever-present set of dimples. “Give me ten minutes,” Doyoung says, leaving the door open for Jaehyun to come in.

In a mundane plot twist (not really much of a twist, but Taeyong insists on calling it that), he ends up going to the same university as Jung Jaehyun and staying in the room across the hall from him.

This is the kind of thing that they would have found out much sooner than move-in day, of course, if they were friends then. As it were, they were as surprised as their mothers to see each other in the dorm lobby that day. (Apparently, they really _do_ discuss books in that book club of theirs, and not just gossip about their children as Doyoung previously believed.)

They’re friends now, inevitably. There’s a bunch of them from their high school who ended up going here, but the others are in different colleges and different dorms. In the end, it’s just Doyoung and Jaehyun who stuck together throughout the whole sem. Which is apparently a gift from the universe to Taeyong, who got to keep an eye on his ‘harmless fun’ turned boyfriend through his best friend.

Not that Jaehyun needed much keeping an eye on.

The two of them got together right when college started, despite Taeyong going to a university like, a thousand miles away from theirs. (Doyoung doesn’t actually have an idea about how far that is, but figures a thousand miles must be far enough if it features _that_ prominently in songs about yearning.) Doyoung still can’t believe that Jung Jaehyun managed to keep a relationship for longer than a season—a feat in itself already—but by now he knows him enough to not be wary all the time that this is all some elaborate ruse to hurt Taeyong in the end.

“Harmless fun your ass,” he said to Taeyong in one of their routine catch-up video calls. Taeyong shrugged from Doyoung’s laptop screen. “You know, this is why those tropes about Person A coming into Person B’s life and changing their outlook on love keeps flourishing,” Doyoung pointed out.

“You mean the good girl changing the bad boy trope?” Taeyong asked around a mouthful of the sweet potato snacks that for some reason he likes so much.

“Here I was trying to make it gender neutral and you just have to make it het,” Doyoung rolled his eyes.

Taeyong burst out laughing, which came out more creepy than charming as his video lagged

Doyoung’s dorm was known for a lot of things—a scenic view over the wide campus quad, a strategic location being a short walk’s distance from most buildings, and a fairly lax residence staff. Fast and reliable WiFi, unfortunately, was not one of them.

“No, you’re right,” Taeyong replied, “because we’re both bad boys.”

“Dear _god_ ,” Doyoung groaned. “I’m going to end this call.” He was only teasing, but the call did get disconnected as the dorm internet failed him completely.

The universe intervening for his sanity, Doyoung guessed.

Now he’s sitting with Jaehyun in the airport, waiting for their flight home.

Jaehyun was never really a bad boy, Doyoung muses as he looks at his side profile. And that’s even though he saw him completely transform his wardrobe to some sort of biker gang and frat boy crossover over the course of half their freshman year so far, despite him being a member of neither.

Doyoung has always been aware _he_ ’s rich, but he thinks Jaehyun is on some other level to be able to afford several different leather jackets on a college freshman’s allowance.

“What?” Jaehyun turns to ask him when he notices him staring.

“Just taking pictures of you through the lens installed by Taeyong over my cornea,” Doyoung replies without missing a beat. Jaehyun laughs.

“So, you ready to go home?” he asks Doyoung after a while.

“I don’t know Jaehyun, I’m sitting in an airport with a plane ticket clutched in my hand, a suitcase by my side. Am I?” Doyoung says, but with no real bite in it. There’s something about Jaehyun that just brings out this snarky side of him most often. That, or he really just happens to be the poor soul in Doyoung’s vicinity a lot of the time these days.

Jaehyun rolls his eyes. “I mean, like, _emotionally_.”

“You can just ask me about Yuta without resorting to all these vague questions, you know?”

“I’m not even—” Jaehyun chuckles. “Whatever, you’re the one who brought him up first.”

“Because you were hinting at him!”

“All I asked was if you’re ready to go home.”

“ _Emotionally_ ,” Doyoung stresses.

“Ahh, I see,” Jaehyun says, bringing a hand to his chin in mock-thought. “So _home_ and _emotion_ just automatically means Yuta for you now?”

“Damn it,” Doyoung mutters, because he did set himself up for that one.

“Now that you mentioned him,” Jaehyun says with a teasing lilt in his tone, crossing his legs to face Doyoung. “Aren’t you a bit curious if he’ll go home for the holidays or not?”

“Considering that there are only two possible answers for that, not really,” Doyoung says, even though he can sense his mind already starting to go into overthinking mode. He _knew_ flying home with Jaehyun would be a bad idea.

“He is,” Jaehyun says anyway, as if Doyoung asked.

“Okay,” Doyoung says.

“Alright, what happened between you two?” Jaehyun asks, a bit more earnest this time. “Yuta won’t tell me a word and I assume you haven’t said anything to Taeyong, either—”

Doyoung raises an eyebrow.

“...Okay, then you’ve told Taeyong but he’s not just telling me—huh, I’m lowkey jealous at that. And also, _damn_ , Yuta and I need to step up our best friend game.”

Doyoung snorts. “There’s really nothing to tell, I bet Yuta is just being purposely vague. Do you think if there’s actually _something_ he’d shut up about it? And have you asked Taeyong about it directly? Because you do have a habit of turning everything into a game of 20 questions even when you just want to know one thing.”

Jaehyun thinks about this. “Okay, well, I’m asking you directly now, aren’t I? What happened between you and Yuta?”

Doyoung sighs. He keeps setting himself up, and now he briefly wonders whether it’s really Jaehyun winning this conversation all along. He narrows his eyes at him. His dimples stare back. Doyoung takes time to think about how he can best phrase what happened.

“Nothing,” is what he finally settles for. Jaehyun groans.

“Well, okay—what do you know?” Doyoung amends.

“That you had a _moment_ on New Year’s day while Yong and I were sleeping peacefully upstairs in your bedroom.”

“A _moment_ ,” Doyoung snorts. “Is that what he’s calling it?”

Jaehyun looks at him with an amused smirk. “No, that’s me summarizing his whole rambling on the way home from your place. I honestly thought you’d be a whole thing before we even went back to school after the holidays.”

 _Me too,_ Doyoung thinks. But he can’t be too melancholic about it, not when it’s his fault it didn’t happen.

“Sweet of you to remember all that from almost a year ago,” Doyoung says.

“It was a pretty memorable night,” Jaehyun replies cheekily.

Doyoung rolls his eyes, “Well, you know all that there is to know, then,” he says.

“Oh, _come on_. I’ve known Yuta for practically my whole life and he’s _nice_ , dare I say the nicest person on Earth, even,” Jaehyun says.

“Is this your way of talking him up to me, Jaehyun? Because I’m really not one for hyperbole.”

“—I’m not done. He’s _nice_ , but he wouldn’t stay up to almost 4AM cleaning up a trashed living room for just anyone.”

Doyoung resolutely stares at the LED board displaying the day’s flight information in front of him.

“Then he’s not the nicest person on Earth,” Doyoung can only say.

“ _God_ ,” Jaehyun pleads and from his peripheral vision, Doyoung can actually see him look up at the airport ceiling. “You know I’ve tried.”

Doyoung tries to laugh. “Whatever! It’s not like he was the love of my life or anything,” he says. “As you said, we just had a ‘ _moment’_ on New Year’s, known to be an even more vulnerable day for singles than Valentine’s Day,” he adds matter-of-factly.

Jaehyun opens his mouth to reply, but the intercom overhead suddenly announces the regular boarding for their flight. Doyoung stands up and starts walking, not bothering to look back to check on Jaehyun, and suddenly dreading every step that brings him closer back home.

Somewhere along the way, Doyoung’s and Yuta’s individual circles have become so intertwined that it has come to this: another New Year’s Eve party, this time in Johnny’s basement and a little bit more lowkey, the kind that Doyoung wanted last year—just his closest friends gathered around each other, no thumping bass in the walls, no balloons, and no excessive glitter (and yes, he _was_ the one who ultimately decorated his party last year, but he was just catering to an audience then).

Doyoung looks around at their group, marveling at how he’s now hanging out with these people, half of them he barely even interacted with all four years of high school. On his and Taeyong’s side of the friend group is Ten (now dating Johnny, who seems to be best friends with the whole soccer team despite him not being a part of it) and Kun, their childhood friend. Kun is now close with Sicheng because like Doyoung and Jaehyun, they ended up going to the same university and were forced to bond by fate, or something. Sicheng is Yuta’s neighbor, apparently, so he’s also close with the team by extension. And of course, the relationship that really forged the two circles together—Jaehyun and Taeyong.

Doyoung briefly wonders how it would have all turned out, if these connections started happening much earlier in their high school life and not towards the end of it. Maybe—

He looks across the room, gaze straying towards Yuta and finding him already staring back.

Maybe he and Yuta could have been a thing, too.

Yuta smiles at him, close-lipped, and Doyoung returns it.

Taeyong doesn’t miss the exchange, even though the last time Doyoung looked at him he was all cozily snuggled up on Jaehyun’s chest. He stretches one leg to kick Doyoung slightly. “You okay?” he mouths, when Doyoung turns to look at him. Doyoung just nods.

Doyoung volunteers to get more drinks and snacks in the kitchen upstairs when they run out, not even letting Johnny finish his request. The basement feels kind of suffocating, partly because of it being underground, of course, but mostly because he can feel Yuta’s heavy gaze on him wherever he turns.

He’s rummaging through Johnny’s fridge and cabinets for a whole minute before he hears the voice that, if he’s being honest, he’s been expecting to follow him since he left.

“Doyoung.”

“Hey,” Doyoung turns around, trying to appear nonchalant.

“You’re really planning on ignoring me for the whole time you’re home?” Yuta says, straight to the point.

Doyoung sighs. He’s been home for more than a week now, but he can’t exactly say he’s been avoiding Yuta this whole time. He’s been mostly holed up at the house, helping out with chores and catching up with Renjun. The few times he went out was when he came over at Taeyong’s the day after Christmas and that one late night convenience store run with Renjun in the middle of a movie marathon. So no, he’s not planning on ignoring Yuta for the whole time he’s home—not when this is the first time he’s actually seeing him since graduation. But tonight?

“Just tonight,” Doyoung admits, pursing his lips.

Despite everything, Yuta snorts. “That was rhetorical, but good to know.”

He starts to turn away but Doyoung reaches for his wrist to stop him. “Wait, I’m sorry.” Yuta stares at Doyoung’s hand, so Doyoung quickly drops his arm. He sighs, like he’s disappointed, and Doyoung no longer knows what to do with himself.

“Why?” Yuta asks him, which is a good question that Doyoung thinks he himself would like to know the answer to. Doyoung stares at him, and of course he finds his gaze immediately trailing to Yuta’s damn piercings. The cable chain with a tiny cross is gone now, replaced with a thin silver hoop, a small star charm hanging from it.

“You know, I _did_ fall for you on New Year’s,” Yuta says, when Doyoung doesn’t say anything for a few long seconds. Doyoung ponders a little why Yuta has to stress _did_ like that, as if Doyoung asked him a question and he wants to make a point. And then it comes back to him—the last real conversation they had, back in August: A confession that didn’t feel like a revelation, just a translation of months of smiles and glances and heartbeats into words. A rejection that felt sensible, but one Doyoung still carries the sting of, as if it’s not him who did it to himself. “...but, I thought I also earned a new friend that day,” Yuta finishes.

Doyoung bites his lip. “You did,” he says quietly.

“Then why shun me out after everything?” Yuta sighs. “I just—I don’t know, I mean we seem to run in the same circles now. I don’t want you feeling awkward whenever we’re all together.”

Doyoung’s breath catches at this. He thought Yuta was mad at him—slightly irritated, at least. Yet here he is, still thinking of _Doyoung_ ’s feelings. Doyoung feels so small, not at all like what he imagined he would feel when he first comes home from college. He doesn’t feel like a grown up at all, he feels immature—not able to stretch his perspective wide enough to see beyond his own little world.

“Can I just—” he begins, a small voice in his head already chiding him that he still has to think of this, amidst everything, even as he goes around the kitchen counter to gather the bottles he has laid there. “Can I just bring this down, real quick? I promise I’ll be back to talk.”

Yuta bites back a smile. “Of course, I’ll be here.”

Yuta’s not in the kitchen when Doyoung comes back, a few minutes later than he would have liked after being roped by Ten into refereeing an argument with Kun about whether ketchup on eggs is the peak of man improving God’s creation, or the worst offense to humanity. Doyoung’s verdict is they’re both idiots.

Doyoung wanders around the house for a while, eventually finding Yuta in the backyard, seated on the creaky swing from Johnny’s childhood mini playground.

“Hey,” Doyoung says as he approaches him.

There’s no light here, but the faint crescent moon shining overhead and the streetlights lining Johnny’s neighborhood are enough illumination. Yuta’s silver earrings glint in the moonlight, and Doyoung thinks it’s unfair how he keeps having all these cinematic moments with him every New Year’s Eve. What if he carries all these memories forever and he grows old being reminded of Yuta every time December 31 comes around?

Doyoung touches the tip of his finger on the metal swing, deeming it not that cold to sit down on it.

“I’m sorry,” he says as soon as he’s eye level with Yuta. In his mind, he’s already running through the things Yuta said and planning how to address them point by point.

“Apology accepted,” Yuta says.

“No, not yet,” Doyoung insists as he moves his swing to face Yuta. “I liked you too, that New Year’s day. Not just because you helped me clean up after the party although I have to admit that’s a huge part of it—” Yuta snorts. “—but also because... well, _god_ , look at you!” Doyoung gestures at Yuta as the other raises his eyebrows at him. “You know you’re damn attractive, Yuta,” Doyoung says, rolling his eyes. “And you just… upended my world in one night, when I was so ready to hate you but instead you started spouting shit about your worries about the future and soccer and writing and—” Doyoung pauses, catching his breath. “How is it, by the way?”

Yuta smiles. “It’s going great, I’m only taking general credit classes this sem, but I got to sit in in my favorite author’s class—I’ve told you about that right?”

Doyoung nods. “That’s great, I’m happy for you.”

“Were you done, or…?” Yuta says, a teasing glint in his eyes.

Doyoung blinks, coming back to the monologue he’s written out in his head. “No, I—well, this is probably a whole year too late, but… soccer was not your whole high school persona. I mean, I knew you as the team captain, of course. But I also knew you as the lead guitarist from that one band that didn’t suck as much as the others in the festival showcase. And much later, I knew you as the guy who helped me clean up my whole living room and kitchen well past 3AM. I wanted to tell you all these things that night, but we were so tired after all that cleaning and then, well, you were saying my name like _that_ and walking your fingers across my palm which by the way—what the fuck was that for?”

Yuta stares at him for a long second, faintly swinging but not letting himself get carried high enough.

Doyoung stares at the motion of the swing, aware of his loud heartbeat, and thinking to himself that he’s expecting more of a reaction out of everything he said than what he’s getting from Yuta right now.

“You really let your thoughts simmer, huh?” Yuta says finally.

Doyoung scowls, but then remembers he’s currently apologizing. “Okay yeah, I was planning to ignore you for the night because I thought it would make everything easier. Then again, I also thought it was the most logical decision to not act on my feelings just because we were headed to literally different directions, and that by the time I’m back home for the holidays I’d have gotten over you. So I’m really not trusting my own thoughts at this point.”

“You know sometimes,” Yuta muses, “we think we’re acting out of reason but really we’re acting out of fear.” He digs his feet on the grass to halt his swing. “What were you so scared of, Doyoung?” he asks, staring intently into Doyoung’s eyes.

Doyoung gulps, because of course Yuta would rummage through his word vomit like that and strike back with a question that cuts through his heart like a biting wind. “I don’t know, it’s just… _you_. You were looking at me like, like…”

“Like what?”

“Like right now,” Doyoung says, trying to hold his gaze and not look away. “Like you want my heart.” He cringes as soon as it’s out of his mouth, but Yuta just smiles at him then looks away, biting his tongue.

A faint breeze blows through the backyard, seeping underneath Doyoung’s sweater and ruffling Yuta’s hair. And Doyoung thinks—

There are a lot of things in his life that he tends to take for granted, despite how he prides himself for always being present in the moment. Sometimes, he looks back at some stuff that happened and only later realizes how he should have cherished them more. This one, though—Doyoung just knows—this moment will be burned in his memory forever. Yuta’s hair tousled by the cold December wind, looking back at him again with eyes that shine in the moonlight, as he whispers just loud enough for Doyoung to hear. “Would that be the worst thing in the world?”

The silence is broken by Doyoung’s phone beeping twice.

He takes it out of his jean pocket and sees two messages from Taeyong. _Doie, it’s going to be midnight soon._ Then, _are you with Yuta?_

Doyoung types out a quick _yes, don’t worry_ , locking his phone again but not before seeing the time. 11:50. Have they been here for that long? It feels like it was just a quarter before eleven when he first went up to the kitchen.

“You know,” Yuta says from beside him. “I admire how you’re always looking ahead. I can see it in you, your eyes always lighting up whenever anyone would mention the future. Most people get scared of it, but you… you’re _excited_.”

Doyoung turns to look at him, wondering where all this is coming from. But he thinks he’s getting used to it now with Yuta, who talks as if he’s always picking up where a conversation has left off from some other time or some other place.

“But then,” Yuta continues. “I saw it in how you look at me, too, those last few months before graduation. Like you were so ready to put a clean divide between who you were in high school and who you will be in college.”

Doyoung’s brows furrow at this. He has never thought that way— _has he_?

“It’s why you were so afraid of starting anything between us, isn’t it?” Yuta says. “Because you see high school as one phase in your life, with college the next one, and you can’t see a way that it survives because in your head they’re already two separate things.”

Yuta pauses for a while, but Doyoung doesn’t say anything.

“But maybe it doesn’t have to be that way. Like, Taeyong’s still your best friend, isn’t he?” Yuta asks.

Doyoung nods, and Yuta lets slip a tiny smile. _Right, rhetorical._

“I guess what I’m saying is,” Yuta lets out a shaky breath. “Moving on to newer things doesn’t always mean completely leaving everything behind.”

Doyoung looks up at the sky, an uneasy feeling spreading through his chest at Yuta’s words. He never meant for it to seem like that, but now, tracing the few stars visible in the night sky with his eyes, Doyoung feels like he’s connecting the dots in his own head as well. He always reasoned to himself that it’s just the way things are—you don’t go to college with a relationship, not when there’s a whole new world out there waiting to be explored, and you don’t start things just when you’re about to leave. But it’s not like he was the only one who left, right? They all left this town, but look at them now, back home to celebrate yet another year. _Home_ , because it still is.

“No,” he says to Yuta, and Doyoung briefly enjoys the look of confusion that passes his face—it’s about time for him to be the one lost in the conversation. “No, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world,” Doyoung clarifies, because he never forgets to say what he means to say, even if it’s a year or ten minutes later. And because he does always answer a question, even if it’s rhetorical.

The backyard is far enough away from the basement that they don’t hear it when their friends start the countdown. The only indication they had that it’s the New Year, once again, is the sudden explosion of fireworks in the sky above them. The display doesn’t look as grand from Johnny’s side of town, but it’s still visible enough for the colors to light up Yuta’s face in intervals, just like they did a year ago on Doyoung’s front porch.

Doyoung reaches up and touches the tiny hoop hanging from Yuta’s ear, taking in the tiny star in his fingers. Yuta smiles at him and finally leans in.

**2017**

“Happy New Year,” Doyoung whispers as he pulls away slightly, forehead still touching Yuta’s.

He can feel Yuta smile even through his closed eyes, feeling his nose scrunch slightly against his own.

“Happy anniversary,” Yuta whispers back.

**2018**

The back of the taxi feels so stuffy, but Doyoung knows if he rolls down the window his cheeks would just hurt from the wind. Beside him, Yuta is also fidgeting and biting his lip, a faint sheen above his brow. He’s looking out his own window, and Doyoung catches his eyes through the reflection scattered with blurring city lights.

Yuta turns his head to face him. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Doyoung says back. “Still nervous?”

“God, yeah,” he exclaims, blowing out a breath. He stares at Doyoung with knitted brows and Doyoung feels like his own expression is not so different. They burst out laughing at the same time, realizing how almost comical the two of them must look. The taxi driver shoots them a weird glance through the mirror.

Doyoung leans his head on Yuta’s shoulder, sighing.

“Still worried?” Yuta asks him.

“God, yeah,” Doyoung says softly, echoing him.

Doyoung guesses it _is_ quite amusing, the two of them both equally anxious but about two different things. The kind of stuff that they’ll probably just laugh at a year later, but for now Doyoung focuses on calming himself. This near to Yuta’s chest, he can feel his boyfriend’s heart beating just as fast as his own, their heartbeats in sync at a fast tempo.

“They’ll love you, you know,” Doyoung murmurs, snaking his arm around Yuta’s waist, the other curling around his elbow.

Yuta rests his head above Doyoung’s. “I know, who wouldn’t? I’m honestly just nervous of how you’d react when they end up liking me more than you.”

Doyoung retracts his arm around Yuta’s waist to jab his ribs.

“Ow!” Yuta exclaims, rubbing the spot.

“They love me, and I love you. Isn’t there some math law about that?” Doyoung says seriously after a moment.

They’re on the way to Doyoung’s house to spend the New Year’s with his family, the settlement that Doyoung reached with his parents when he couldn’t come home as early as Christmas because he’s been too busy with school, even though technically they’ve been on holiday break for a week at that point. And Doyoung has to admit that it was about time they met Yuta in person, anyway. Their relationship is far from secret, but there has just never been a proper coinciding schedule for everyone in the past two years since they started dating.

“And besides,” Doyoung adds jokingly. “This is why we invited Taeyong and Jaehyun along, right? If they end up not liking you, we can just say _sike_ and that it’s actually Taeyong I’m dating. Taeyong, they _love_.”

It’s Yuta’s turn to jab him in the ribs as Doyoung giggles.

“Oh _god_ , it slipped my mind that Jae’s gonna be there, too. Parents tend to like him more than me!”

Doyoung snorts. “We’re meeting _my_ parents!”

“What if they fall in love with those squishy cheeks of his and think he’s a better match for their son?”

“What?” Doyoung lets out incredulously.

“Yeah, that didn’t make sense to me either,” Yuta admits.

They’re quiet for a few minutes, the taxi’s floor humming beneath their feet as they’re stopped yet again in the middle of traffic. Doyoung glances at his watch a little worriedly, _really_ not wanting to spend New Year’s in this oppressive backseat.

Yuta pokes him gently with his elbow. “They’ll love you too, you know.”

“Hmm?” Doyoung answers absent-mindedly.

“Your graduation recital panel, your future job interviewers, all the people who’d be lucky to cross paths with you in this world,” Yuta elaborates. “They’ll all love you.”

Doyoung lifts his head up from Yuta’s shoulder. “I was just starting to forget about my recital!”

Yuta raises an eyebrow at him. “Were you, really? Your forehead was all wrinkled up.”

Doyoung pouts. It’s the thing he’s been worried about all night—all year, really. On the second semester of his freshman year, he made the sudden decision to finish his degree in three years: one to save up on miscellaneous fees for two semesters (and keep it for himself, because, well, his parents have already set aside for it, after all), and two because he thinks it’d be quite a challenge, something to do for himself just because. But sometimes when he’s drowning in requirements and barely getting any sleep for weeks at a time, he struggles to remember why he thought it’s a nice idea to do all this to himself.

“I don’t think I’m ready. Maybe I should just extend to a fourth year after all.”

Yuta turns to face him as much as he can in the cramped seat. “No,” he says firmly, cupping Doyoung’s cheeks. “You’ve already worked so hard, only one sem left now! And you’ve been working on this piece since last summer. It’s _great_ , Dons.”

“What do you know, you’re not a critic,” Doyoung mutters through pursed lips.

Yuta glares at him. Doyoung laughs, nuzzling up against his neck. “I’m kidding, baby! You know your opinion is the only thing that matters to me.”

“See, why does that sound so sarcastic?” Yuta grumbles even as he strokes Doyoung’s hair fondly. Doyoung just smiles against his skin.

They stay like that for a moment—a pop song faintly playing through the radio, muffled traffic sounds outside the window, and headlights swimming in and out of view. As cliche as it is, Doyoung wishes he could live in this moment forever.

But then the traffic moves and Doyoung is forced to sit up, slightly thrown by the car’s motion. Soon, the taxi’s getting off the highway and the traffic is easing up. They’re only about fifteen minutes away from Doyoung’s house now.

Doyoung turns his head to look at Yuta, offering him a soft smile. “We’ll be okay,” he says quietly, reaching out for Yuta’s hand. Yuta takes it and squeezes gently. Doyoung squeezes back.

After a few seconds, Yuta squeezes it again, staring at Doyoung with a barely held back smirk on his lips. “What? Three times, for good luck.”

Doyoung chuckles.

The dining room feels so full in the best way possible, when Doyoung walks in and helps set down the dishes his mom has prepared for the night.

His dad’s already seated at the head of the table, talking animatedly with Yuta. Doyoung smiles at the sight. Of course, his dad did try to do the intimidating dad routine when Yuta first shook his hand, but pretty soon Yuta has managed to charm his way into his family. Doyoung doesn’t really know what his boyfriend has been so nervous for. Seated on Yuta’s right is Taeyong then Jaehyun and across from them is Renjun and his ‘best friend’ Jeno, which Doyoung had to raise an eyebrow at when his brother first introduced them.

“Why are you stealing my thunder? Bringing your boyfriend on the same night as I bring mine home?” Doyoung teased Renjun as he cornered him in the hallway. Renjun looked uncharacteristically flustered that Doyoung failed to bite back the laugh bubbling up his throat.

“He’s just my _best friend_ ,” Renjun hissed.

“Sure,” Doyoung said. “But I don’t look at Taeyong like _that_.”

“Then maybe we’re better friends than you guys are,” Renjun retorted, pushing past him into the kitchen. Doyoung followed him, cackling.

Now Doyoung finally sits down between his dad and Yuta as his mom sets the last of the food on the table. Everyone happily digs in and gushes at Doyoung’s mom’s cooking, making conversation about anything and everything.

Doyoung’s mom asks Taeyong about university, then commends him for Jaehyun, who’s apparently ‘quite a catch’. Doyoung looks over at his friends and sees the tips of Jaehyun’s ears furiously turning red as Taeyong tries to smile. From beside him, Yuta whispers a quiet “ _I told you so_ ,” earning an elbow to his side from Doyoung. Taeyong turns his attention to Renjun and Jeno, and peppers them with questions about school and how their old teachers are doing, as Doyoung’s parents laugh at the obvious deflection.

“Such a shame you two didn’t get together till after high school,” Doyoung’s dad says, turning to him and Yuta. “To think, you were just…” he gestures wildly around him, “...in the same building, for four whole years!”

Doyoung lets out a laugh, wondering how much champagne his father has had before dinner. “Well, he was such a celebrity then, Dad. I was barely on his radar,” at this he turns to Yuta, smirking at him. Yuta groans good-naturedly at the inside joke, three years running now.

“I think it’s just perfect,” Doyoung’s mom pipes up. Doyoung notices that everyone in the table is looking at them now, Taeyong especially looking glad that the spotlight is off of him. “Right place, right time, you know?” his mom continues, “It’s so sweet how Yuta just stayed up to help Doie clean up after the New Year’s party like that, even though they barely knew each other then.”

“Oh _god_ ,” Doyoung rolls his eyes, even though inwardly his heart still feels giddy at the memory.

“He was so whipped,” Jaehyun snorts from the other end of the table. Yuta turns to Doyoung, blushing, “You’ve told your parents about that?”

“ _Please_ ,” Renjun butts in. “He’s told the whole _clan_.” The whole table comes together in laughter. Doyoung glares at them.

“My, remember when you couldn’t even get that ex-boyfriend of yours to come to your birthday party? Then comes Yuta, who even stays behind to help you clean up!” his mom exclaims, even literally clutching her pearls. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Yuta raise an eyebrow.

“Mom! He was _not_ my boyfriend. And that was middle school, for god’s sake,” Doyoung protests.

“God, I remember that! You were sitting by the gifts table all—” Renjun pauses, making a face, apparently reenacting how Doyoung looked that day. His parents chuckle.

“Oh my god,” Taeyong exclaims. “Is this about—”

“Can we _not_?” Doyoung groans, cutting him off. He feels a slight squeeze in his hand, only then realizing that he has unconsciously reached for Yuta’s hand under the table. Yuta is looking at him, clearly biting back a smile, eyes shining with mirth.

Now that the memory is awakened, Doyoung can vividly recall that day. It’s so silly now, but back then he remembers feeling so heartbroken, thinking of the hand-made invitation he has painstakingly put together and even delivered in person to Taeil in his homeroom—Taeil smiling wide at him, promising that he’ll _definitely_ _come_ , but Doyoung sat patiently by the gifts table, the one nearest to the door, as the last of his classmates left, and still he never showed up. It turned out he had an urgent thing with his family, which Doyoung really can’t blame him for, but the feeling stayed with him well into high school.

He wouldn’t call himself a hopeless romantic per se—but he did believe in grand gestures, fiery passion that he could only imagine then, burning and exhilarating in its intensity.

Now, as he sits with Yuta, laughing and talking with his favorite people in one table, Doyoung thinks he likes this side of their love more. He could do without a blazing bonfire type of love, one that’s just bound to die out in the morning. This one with Yuta—it’s more like scented candles on quiet nights, the warm glow of a secure relationship with his number one in this world.

Soon, the dinner’s over, all eight of them leaning back on their chairs, rubbing their tummy from the good food. “Auntie, can you adopt me?” Jaehyun says.

Doyoung snorts at that. “Please, no. Injun’s enough of a nuisance.”

“I’d love to have Jaehyun as my brother instead,” Renjun snarls.

Their mother laughs, standing up from the table. “Alright, kids and those who want to be my kids, time to clean up.”

Jaehyun straightens up and starts to stack up the plates on their end of the table.

“Jaehyun, I’m just kidding! Come on, you’re my guest.”

“I’ll help as well,” Yuta pipes up.

Doyoung looks at him with a raised brow. “Are you competing with Jaehyun? She already likes you, you know,” he says, laughing. Yuta half-glares at him. “Shut up! It’s not that.”

“Uh, I’ll help too,” a quiet voice says from across them. Doyoung turns to see Jeno, who even has one hand slightly raised in the air.

Doyoung claps his hand. “Perfect. Let the sons’ boyfriends clean up, then.”

“ _Doyoung!_ They’re our _guests_ ,” his mom chides him, just as Renjun hopelessly sputters out incoherent mumblings and Jeno blushes furiously.

“Uh, we’re not… we’re not boyfriends yet,” Jeno says meekly.

“ _Yet!?_ ” Doyoung and Renjun say at the same time as the whole table erupts in chuckles.

“Ahh, this is the best New Year’s Eve dinner ever,” Doyoung says, shaking his head as he stands and starts to clean up.

“Maybe Renjun and I can wash and you two can dry?” Jeno turns to them once the table is all cleaned up and the dishes are brought to the sink. Doyoung decides he already likes him.

“Ugh, speak for yourself,” Renjun mutters.

Doyoung tackles his brother in a one-arm hug and tousles his hair. “You two can chill in the living room, Yuta and I got this.”

“ _Ugh_! Speak for yourself, honey,” Yuta teases with a smirk in Renjun’s direction.

“Hey! To think I was starting to like you more than Doyoung,” Renjun says with a pout, squirming away from Doyoung’s hold.

“To be fair, I already like Jeno more than you, too,” Doyoung laughs, then ushers the two younger boys out of the kitchen. “Go on, this is our thing. Let us have our moment.”

Renjun rolls his eyes, but he takes Jeno’s wrist and drags him toward the living room anyway.

“Our thing, huh?” Yuta says once they’re gone, hands coming to wrap around Doyoung’s waist. Doyoung smiles and slaps a pair of dishwashing gloves against his chest. “Shut up.”

“Hey,” Taeyong says as he sits beside Doyoung on the couch. It’s 11PM now, only an hour to go before midnight and they welcome yet another new year. His dad has gone to his office for an urgent work call, while Renjun and Jeno are out on the porch, probably having some good ol’ NYE heart-to-heart confession. The rest are in the kitchen—his mom preparing midnight snacks as if they’re not still full from the earlier dinner, Jaehyun and Yuta sharing some soju against the kitchen counter.

“Hey,” Doyoung replies, arm automatically going around Taeyong’s shoulders. “Thanks for joining us tonight.”

“Of course, wouldn’t miss Auntie’s cooking.”

“And your dear best friend’s excellent company,” Doyoung adds for him. Taeyong lets out a short chuckle, but it fades out into a sigh.

“What’s wrong?” Doyoung asks, turning to look at him worriedly.

“Jaehyun and I… we broke up.”

Doyoung’s eyes widen, gaze automatically sliding to the direction of the kitchen and to Jaehyun, who’s mid-laugh at something Yuta just said. Their eyes meet briefly, with Jaehyun immediately looking down as soon as he sees Taeyong beside Doyoung.

“Oh, Yong… I’m so sorry,” Doyoung whispers, cradling Taeyong’s face against him. “When did this happen?”

“Yesterday,” Taeyong murmurs.

“What? You should have told me, I wouldn’t have made you come together, you know that.”

“I know, Doie. But I also know you were a bit nervous about your parents finally meeting Yuta in person, even though you won’t outright say it. So I wanted to come for moral support.”

“That’s sweet shit, but you could have just uninvited him?”

Despite everything, this makes Taeyong chuckle a little. “It’s really not a big deal! Besides, don’t you think maybe Yuta needs Jaehyun here as much as you need me?”

Doyoung looks towards the direction of the kitchen again. Yuta’s back is to him, and Doyoung realizes he definitely looked more relaxed the moment they arrived and saw both Taeyong and Jaehyun already there.

“How… why?” he asks.

“I don’t want to talk about it for now,” Taeyong says, resting his head on Doyoung’s shoulder.

Doyoung nods and stays quiet, running gentle fingers through his best friend’s hair.

“I’m guessing Taeyong already told you, too?” Yuta says as they slip out of the back door. Renjun and Jeno are still out on their front porch—Doyoung’s already mourning the loss of what he’s come to think of as his and Yuta’s spot.

He didn’t actually want to leave Taeyong alone, but his best friend fell asleep shortly after their short conversation on the couch, so Doyoung just laid him there and went up to get a blanket. When he came back down, Yuta was waiting for him, letting him know that Jaehyun decided to leave early but wanted to thank his family for inviting him tonight. Doyoung just smiled sadly.

Now he and Yuta both set down the spare plastic chairs they carried from inside. Their backyard is a little unkempt and unlike Johnny, he and Renjun didn’t have their own playground growing up so there are no swings to perch on here. But watching the New Year’s fireworks display outside has been kind of their thing now, even though the first times they did it together were mostly unintentional.

Right place, right time. That’s what his mother said.

“Yeah,” Doyoung says in answer to Yuta’s question. “Since when did you know?”

“Just tonight, I swear!” Yuta says, putting a hand up.

Doyoung rolls his eyes. “I’m not accusing you! Although I feel a little guilty that I didn’t notice how Taeyong was unusually quiet tonight. Remember when my mom joked that Jaehyun was quite a catch? God, I thought he was just being shy when he deflected all the teasing.” Doyoung scrunches his nose.

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up about it,” Yuta says, resting a hand on his knee.

“Do you know why they broke up?”

“Nah, Jae doesn’t want to talk about it.”

Doyoung nods. “Yeah, Taeyong too.” He sighs, looking up at the sky. “I’m really sad for them. They were the perfect couple, you know?”

Yuta leans away slightly, giving him an incredulous look. “ _Excuse?”_

Doyoung lets out a quiet laugh. “Second to us, _duh_!

Yuta laughs too, then turns serious after a while. “Me too, I guess. But you know, it happens.”

“ _It happens_?”

Yuta shrugs. “We don’t really know every detail of their relationship. And as much as they are painful, breakups are… normal.”

“You’re talking so nonchalantly about breakups for someone in a committed relationship,” Doyoung observes.

Yuta stares at him. “I’m talking about this as someone who’s _their_ friend.” He moves his body sideways on the chair so he’s facing Doyoung. “Why, are you _scared_ the same thing’s going to happen to us?”

Doyoung blinks. “No! God, _no_. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that…” he trails off as he puts more thought into it, realizing that maybe he _did_ mean it, just a little. He knows his relationship with Yuta is not at all like Taeyong’s with Jaehyun. But still. Taeyong and Jaehyun got together a whole six months before them. What if there’s a certain expiration date for couples like them?

He shakes his head, trying to get the thought off his mind. It’s stupid and doesn’t make sense at all. It’s just him being sad for Taeyong.

“Dons, we’re _different_ , okay? Not in a good way, and not in a bad way. Just… different.”

“I know. It’s just… Can I be honest about what I’m thinking like, generally? Without you freaking out and thinking that it’s what I’m thinking specifically about _us_?”

“That’s a lot of thinking,” Yuta jokes. “Do you really have to ask?”

“Of course,” Doyoung says. Yuta mouths, _‘rhetorical’_.

Doyoung smiles then takes a deep breath. “I’m thinking of _endings_.” He glances at Yuta to see how he would react at the word but he’s just staring intently, waiting for him to continue. “I mean, my college life is ending in a few months. I’ll move out of the dorms and get my own place soon, another ending to _this_ being my home,” he looks behind him, at the house that he spent his whole childhood in. “The year is _ending_ , Taeyong and Jaehyun just ended.” He inhales, then sighs it out slowly. “I used to be so excited for endings—I mean, you knew that—because to me endings always meant another beginning, something to look forward to. But when I think of you, of us… I… I get scared, Yuta. Because I don’t think that’s an ending that would have another beginning. And _god,_ please don’t misunderstand me as having doubts about us. I just…” he trails off, not really knowing what to say next.

Yuta takes his hand and squeezes it, once. Doyoung squeezes back two times.

“You’re looking way too ahead again,” Yuta says simply, but he’s smiling and Doyoung takes it as a good sign.

Memories of past New Year’s Eves play behind his eyes, and Doyoung realizes that this date, along with many others in the calendar, will forever be Yuta’s in his heart. He finds that he’s okay with that.

“I really wish you’d worn your earrings today,” Doyoung whispers.

“One at a time, Dons. Your parents just started to like me.”

Doyoung smiles, thinking that his parents wouldn’t really mind. They fell for Yuta almost as fast as their son did three years ago.

“I wish I could tell you not to think about the future too much,” Yuta says, rubbing Doyoung’s hand with his thumb. “But that’s just you. And I love you because of it, among other things,” he says with an amused smirk, prompting a slight laugh from Doyoung. “But we’ll be _okay_.” He scoots closer, only half-sitting on his own chair now as he brings his forehead and touches it with Doyoung’s.

“Not that I’m _not_ , but…. how can you be so sure?” Doyoung whispers.

“I just am,” Yuta whispers back, his breath almost burning Doyoung’s cheeks that have gotten cold from the December night air. He straightens up slightly, hands wrapping around either side of Doyoung’s face. “You wanna know the ending to our book? Spoiler alert: I stay.”

Doyoung smiles, and he thinks if it wasn’t for the cold wind drying his eyes, his tears would have come rushing out now.

“I fucking love you,” he says, hands coming to rest above Yuta’s that are still on his own cheeks.

Yuta shoots him a devilish grin. “I love fucking you too. Oh wait, that’s—”

“Oh my god, shut up!”

Their kiss comes before the New Year’s fireworks this time.

When the first set of lights explode with a boom in the sky, Doyoung barely registers it, what with his heartbeat thundering louder in his chest and lights dancing dizzyingly around his own head.

**2019**

“You’re making another pasta, right? Jaehyun’s lactose intolerant,” Yuta says, peeking over Doyoung’s shoulder at the carbonara sauce he’s currently stirring in the pot.

Doyoung lowers the heat then turns to his boyfriend. “He is? Doesn’t he… like milk?” he asks, definitely remember getting dragged by Jaehyun from his dorm room just to go buy some milk in tetra packs at one point in college.

Yuta laughs, “Yeah, I didn’t say it ever stopped him.” He walks over to the fridge, getting out a pitcher of cold water.

“Also, I…” Doyoung starts, then bites his lip. “I didn’t think he’s… invited?”

Yuta turns to him, the fridge door still propped open with his waist.

“Close the fridge, please,” Doyoung says with a wince. Yuta lets go and it slams shut. “Why not?”

“Well, Taeyong is coming, so…” Doyoung says, trailing off.

Yuta blinks at him, mouth still caught in half a smile. “Jaehyun’s my best friend.”

“And Taeyong is mine,” Doyoung retorts.

“Great,” Yuta exclaims, throwing up both hands in the air. “Then both our best friends will be at _our_ New Year’s Eve party, which is a _very_ special event for _both_ of us.”

“Yuta.”

“Dons.”

Doyoung sighs. “It’s just… I don’t want us to argue about them.”

“But you’re prepared to do so anyway if I invite Jaehyun?”

Doyoung grimaces. Damn couple’s developed telepathy.

“He’s your friend, too,” Yuta says, stepping closer to him. “And we’ll have the whole group over, it’s not like they’ll be forced to sit next to each other all night? Look, Jaehyun’s part of the gang as much as anyone.”

“I hate it when you say things that make sense,” Doyoung pouts as Yuta clutches his chest in mock indignation. “When have I ever!”

Doyoung smiles, despite himself, and goes back to the stove again. “When shit happens later, I’m kicking you out.”

Doyoung thinks he must have been quite a saint in his past life, for him to have all these good things in his life right now. He’s seated on the sofa, resting a little before he moves on to preparing the desserts for later, and watching Yuta move around their living room, doing last minute touch ups to the few decorations they’ve put up this morning.

He vaguely remembers fantasizing about this setup, all those years ago when he was sleepily cleaning up his living room and nursing a new crush on the boy who stayed up and helped him even though he didn’t have to.

They moved in together right after Doyoung graduated from college a few months ago, a stroke of luck that he got a job—more of a barely paid internship, really, working directly for one of the country’s top musical theater directors, who also happens to be based in the same city as Yuta’s college. (And if anyone dares insist that it’s because Doyoung prioritized applying for jobs in this city before anywhere else... he’ll deny it vehemently.)

Their apartment is quite small, not even half of the first floor of the house that Doyoung grew up in, and their window overlooks a brick wall on one side and a construction site on another (soon to be another brick wall, Doyoung thinks), but they have access to the rooftop and they’re allowed to have a cat in the building, so really, what more can Doyoung wish for?

As if summoned by Doyoung’s thoughts, their orange tabby cat comes into view, padding her short legs across the living room and coming to stop by Yuta’s feet, looking up at him and the ‘ _happy new year’_ streamer he’s adjusting overhead.

“Come on, Phoebe, Yuta’s gonna squish you with his huge feet accidentally,” Doyoung coos, holding out his hands.

Yuta scoffs and turns to glare at him. “What monster do you think I am?”

Doyoung rolls his eyes. “I said _accidentally_.” He stands and picks up the cat instead, rubbing the top of her head.

“Still can’t believe you named her after _the_ Phoebe Buffay,” Yuta says.

“Would you rather I named her _Rachel_?” Doyoung snorts.

“Wait, is it still crooked?” Yuta says, stepping back and looking at the wall decor. Doyoung tilts his head, “Actually yeah, but I like it better. Gives it a chill vibe.”

Yuta shrugs, “I can’t believe you just said ‘chill’.”

“It’s not the outdated slang you think it is! Ever heard of Netflix and Chill?”

“Ooh, speaking of—”

Doyoung stands up, carefully moving Phoebe off his lap into the couch. “I still have a lot of things to do.”

Yuta pouts at him, then turns to the cat. “You’re the only one who loves me, Phoebe.”

“Please, you’re just a human with food to her.”

“Ooh, this is cozy,” Ten exclaims as he enters the door.

“I’m going to pretend that’s not Ten-speak for ‘your apartment is awfully small, how do you manage to live here?’,” Doyoung says in greeting. Ten kisses his cheek, “Aw, you know me too well, Doie.” Beside him, Kun giggles.

“Okay no, seriously though. Your home is beautiful,” Ten says earnestly, looking around, but Doyoung can’t help but laugh, Ten’s tone reminding him of his mom’s friends back home.

“Are the others here?” Kun asks.

“Yeah, Taeyong’s the only one missing,” he says, gesturing to the living room. The three of them make their way inside, Yuta jumping up to hug Ten as soon as he sees him. Phoebe lets out a loud meow, wanting to get in the interaction.

“Oww, kitty!” Kun gushes, dropping down to pet her. “Phoebe, right?”

“Phoebe Buffay, actually,” Yuta says and Doyoung hits his chest lightly.

Doyoung goes to the kitchen, reaching up to the top cabinet above the sink for some glasses for Ten and Kun. Before he can turn around, he feels a pair of arms circle his waist, followed by Yuta’s chin coming to rest on the back of his neck.

“I swear to god if you make me drop these glasses,” Doyoung says, even as a smile slowly breaks open in his face at the gesture.

“I love you,” Yuta murmurs against his skin. Doyoung maneuvers around the hug so he’s half-facing Yuta. “What did you do?”

Yuta pulls away from him, half-glaring. “One of these days I will stop being randomly sweet to you and it’ll haunt you for the rest of your life.”

Doyoung laughs, carefully setting the two glasses down and wrapping his hands around Yuta’s neck. “I’m just kidding, please don’t stop being randomly sweet to me. It’s my lifeline in this harsh, harsh world.” His tone is teasing, but Doyoung means it with all his heart.

Yuta gives him a quick peck. “It’s just, you’re going to get busy when everyone else arrives. I want to have a short quiet moment alone with you before the chaos that is Jaehyun and Taeyong finally seeing each other again after a year happens.”

Doyoung scrunches his nose. “I _will_ kick you out for like three hours.”

“Wh—I’m not responsible for our two adult friends!”

Doyoung sighs, burrowing his head on Yuta’s shoulder. He feels Yuta stand on his tiptoes, so that Doyoung doesn’t have to bend his body to reach it. “Okay, one hour,” Doyoung relents, murmuring against Yuta’s shirt. “No, it’s just,” he says after a while, pulling away slightly but still keeping his hands on Yuta. “I want us to celebrate this all together, too. I just get so worried for Taeyong, you know.”

“I know,” Yuta whispers, his thumb reaching up to Doyoung’s cheek and rubbing it gently. “I was just kidding about the chaos. I’m sure it’ll be okay, we’re all grown up now. Hell, didn’t we just pay the bills last week?”

Doyoung lets out a peal of laughter. “I hope so. Now I gotta get these glasses to Kun and Ten before they drink straight out of the bottle.”

He pulls away, but Yuta reaches out for his hand as he does so. They walk hand-in-hand back to the living room, Yuta squeezing his hands three times before letting go.

Taeyong arrives thirty minutes late, but not at all looking harried. In fact, Johnny even attempts at a wolf-whistle as Taeyong struts in in a bedazzled leather jacket and tight black jeans, his electric red hair (new color of the month) standing out in stark contrast, along with a matching red eyeshadow and sharp eyeliner. There’s a black sunglasses perched on top of his head, and Doyoung bursts out laughing, because it’s literally 10PM.

“Damn, my ripped jeans are quite offended,” Ten says.

“Happy New Year, you guys,” Taeyong greets them, still in his usual soft voice despite the rockstar outfit.

“Uh, sir, this isn’t the Warped Tour,” Johnny says, raising a hand. Yuta laughs from beside him.

“Ha-ha,” Taeyong deadpans, plopping down on the empty spot between them on the couch.

“You look great, Yong,” Jaehyun says quietly from his corner.

“Ohhh!” Sicheng hoots, cupping his mouth. Everyone turns to look at him. “Oh, we’re not doing that. Okay,” he murmurs, leaning back to the couch again.

A quiet beat passes, then everyone starts laughing at him.

Doyoung darts his eyes between Taeyong and Jaehyun, happy that at least they’re finding this amusing, too.

“Have you seen Jaehyun?” Yuta enters the kitchen just as Doyoung’s taking out the matcha cake he baked earlier from the fridge.

“Unless I missed him inside the fridge, no,” Doyoung answers.

“Okay, cause… Taeyong’s gone, too.”

Doyoung looks up, raising an eyebrow. “Huh. Coincidence?”

“When it comes to those two?” Yuta asks back.

“Yeah… you’re right. Okay, then they’re either finally having the breakup screaming match they never got to have one year late or…” he trails off as he rushes to their bedroom, but no one’s in there. He looks in the bathroom too, but nothing.

“Rooftop?” Yuta asks from behind him. Doyoung nods.

They make their way up the rooftop, and sure enough, like a scene straight out of four years ago—

“For fuck’s sake,” Doyoung groans.

“Doyoung! Yuta!” Taeyong says.

“Oh, hey you guys,” Jaehyun says, turning around and still out of breath.

Doyoung opens his mouth, feeling like he needs to say something smart—something about making out with your ex at your best friends’ apartment rooftop and the risk of catching feelings and a cold. But Yuta is already leaving his side and running up to their two friends, crushing them in a hug. “I’m so happy you’re back together!”

“This is a bad idea, you guys,” Doyoung says as he paces, his voice shaking a little but not really from the situation. “It’s too damn cold on this rooftop.” Yuta immediately presses closer to him and envelopes him in a hug.

“Thanks, baby.”

“Doie, I—” Taeyong begins, but he’s cut off by Ten’s head peeking up from the stairway. “They’re here!” he calls down, and soon enough they’re all shivering together, forming a semi-circle around Taeyong and Jaehyun.

“It’s the leather jacket. I really can’t blame you Jae,” Kun says matter-of-factly.

“Kun!” Doyoung chastises him, but Kun just shrugs.

“You guys!” Jaehyun finally speaks up. “We have something to tell you.”

“You think?” Doyoung shrieks. Yuta laughs in his ear. “Relax, Dons.”

Taeyong and Jaehyun look at each other and seem to come to an understanding as they face their friends again. “We’ve actually been back together for a few months now,” Taeyong says.

Doyoung freezes. “What?” Yuta exclaims, loosening his hug on Doyoung in surprise. Doyoung whimpers slightly, so he tightens it again.

“We wanted to tell you,” Jaehyun says. “But it’s just… we had a lot of issues to work through first and we weren’t sure if… we _really_ want to try again, you know?”

“But then,” Taeyong continues and Doyoung has to raise his eyebrow at the almost rehearsed speech these two are giving. “Seeing you guys,” he says meekly, gesturing to Doyoung and Yuta, “you both look so happy and content in your new domestic life. It just made me remember how no one else really made me feel that happy except Jaehyun.”

“And it got us to thinking,” it’s Jaehyun’s turn to speak. “If… we hadn’t broken up, maybe we would have been at this stage by now, too, you know… living together, adopting a cat of our own—”

“You mean a dog?” Taeyong cuts in.

Yuta snorts. “Don’t be stupid, there’s no set ‘timeline’ or ‘stages’ for any relationship,” he says seriously, then turns to Doyoung, “but hell yeah, we’re pulling ahead!” Doyoung laughs as they high five.

“Ugh,” Ten scoffs. “Bitches be forgetting Johnny and I are already engaged.”

The whole group turns to them as one with wide eyes and mouths dropped open. Ten’s eyes widen too as he looks up at Johnny. “Oh _shit,_ we haven’t told them yet, have we?”

Johnny just shakes his head, pressing his lips together as he bites back a smile.

The next minute is a blur of cheers and congratulations as they hug their way to each other—Johnny yelling, “We’re engaged!!” into the sky. Ten laughs at him.

“Sorry, babe, been wanting to do that ever since, but we were in a museum.”

“You proposed to him in a museum?” Kun asks. “No wonder Ten said yes.”

Johnny glares at him jokingly. “ _Yeah_ , because it’s that and not Ten being head over heels in love with this,” he says, gesturing to himself.

“I mean, probably 50 percent _that_ , baby,” Ten says, and everyone erupts into laughter.

“God, at this rate you’re all coupling up, I’m really going to have to marry Kun when we’re 30,” Sicheng sighs.

“You can only wish,” Kun retorts.

They stay on the rooftop for another minute, until everyone realizes there’s really nothing to do up there except probably freeze to death. The TV is still on when they come back down, playing a local channel that’s having an end-of-year show. It’s only a minute left before midnight now.

“You guys,” Doyoung says, raising his glass of champagne. “To the best year of our lives.”

“To 2020!” Everyone cheers in response, just as the countdown starts on the screen.

Doyoung drunkenly flips through the polaroids from the night, already feeling nostalgic for what’s probably the happiest New Year’s Eve he has had so far. Of course, he says this every year.

“Can you believe they’re engaged?” he mutters as he comes across one he took of Ten and Johnny—Ten’s head peeking out from behind Johnny’s, his arms wrapped around his neck as Johnny flashes a peace sign to the camera. “They haven’t even graduated yet!”

“Okay, Doyoung _‘I finished my degree in three years’_ Kim,” Yuta says with a laugh.

“You know what I mean!” he says, pouting, looking up at Yuta through hazy eyes. He looks back down at the polaroids and finds that he’s already gone through all of them. He tries to stand up, but ends up falling back down again.

“Hey now,” Yuta says as he catches him by the waist.

“Come on, we still have to clean this all up,” he slurs out, gesturing around their living room.

“How about we go to sleep instead?” Yuta murmurs.

“But—” Doyoung starts to protest, looking sadly at the mess.

“Hey,” Yuta cups his cheeks so he could face him. “This is not like the other years, okay? We live together now, we don’t have someplace else to be. All these will still be here tomorrow when we wake up.”

Doyoung frowns at him. “But that’s the thing, baby!” he whines. Yuta scrunches his nose, giggling at his drunk antics. “You’re gonna fall asleep down some bucket of floor cleaner at this point. Come on,” he says, gently bringing his arm around his shoulder and leading Doyoung into their bedroom, Phoebe following in their wake.

Doyoung wakes up at 1PM and finds Yuta already picking up the bottles scattered around their living room floor. “Sorry I woke up late.”

“I just woke up too. How’s your head?”

“Hurts,” Doyoung murmurs, not really having the energy to open his mouth for longer than a sentence. He sleepily makes his way towards Yuta, helping him gather the trash.

“Eat something first!” Yuta chides him. He drops the trash bag and goes to the kitchen, washing his hands then taking out an apple and a glass of water from the fridge. Doyoung walks over and slumps his head over the tiny counter. He’s startled when he suddenly feels a fuzzy ball nuzzling his feet. Doyoung absent-mindedly reaches out a hand to pet Phoebe.

“Drink up, Dons.”

Doyoung groans, but he raises his head and gulps down the glass of water anyway. Yuta reaches out a hand and pushes back the stray strands that have gotten stuck on his forehead.

“Happy New Year, baby.”

**2020**

“Fuck 2020,” Doyoung grumbles at his laptop screen.

There’s a melodic laughter from the speaker, then Yuta comes into view of the camera, smiling wide at him. “Fuck 2020,” he agrees, then walks out of view again.

Doyoung is sitting alone in his bedroom, back again at his parents’ house. There are worse places to get stuck in for the better part of the nationwide lockdown, he guesses, but tonight he’s just feeling especially lonely and wishes he’s with Yuta in Japan and celebrating this day with him. Anywhere, really, as long as he’s by his side.

He stares at the screen in front of him, showing a view of Yuta’s grandparents’ kitchen, where Yuta has set it down half an hour earlier when he started preparing for their New Year’s Eve dinner. Doyoung himself has just finished helping out his mom, but all that there is to do is done now, so Doyoung is just passing time in his room, not really feeling excited as he usually would around this time of year.

Yuta comes in and out of view of the camera for the next hour as he busies himself in the kitchen. Doyoung leans back in his chair and scrolls mindlessly through his phone, alternating between Twitter and Instagram whenever he catches up with fresh posts, which are not much considering he’s only following a handful of accounts in both. At one point he ended up downloading the Facebook app—might as well see what his relatives are up to this time.

“Okay, I’m done,” Yuta’s voice distracts him from scrolling through hundreds of photos in one of his Aunt’s “Christmas Day 2020!” albums. There’s a quiet rustling, where the whole screen is just a big blur of brown for a moment, then Yuta appears again, and this time Doyoung can see that he’s back in the room he’s sharing with one of his cousins.

It’s only been a few months since they’ve really been apart. When the country first went into lockdown as the virus cases started climbing higher and higher, the two of them are still in their shared apartment, helping each other cope with the anxiety of not seeing their family and the general threat of sickness in the air that they can catch anytime.

The few classes Yuta has left for his last semester started transitioning online. Meanwhile, the production that Doyoung was working on basically halted, and while he was not necessarily laid off, he wasn’t given leave with pay either. So he had to find some part-time online tutoring work for the meantime and rely on allowances from his parents again after almost a year.

Despite everything, he and Yuta have learned to settle into a quiet routine those first few months. They hardly dare go outside, and Doyoung thinks it’s less out of fear of being sick themselves but more out of catching the virus and infecting the other with it. They binge-watched a lot of Netflix shows, finally getting the most out of the subscription that they started paying for since they moved in together but were too busy to really take advantage of. They also watched a lot of Youtube tutorials on how to train your cat, but Phoebe’s much too stubborn (just like both of her dads) to pay attention to anything. “They’re just not meant to be tamed,” Yuta said then as he rubbed the belly of a content and full Phoebe lying on his lap.

Doyoung experimented with composing a more contemporary sound; Yuta tried out writing song lyrics for a change from his usual prose fiction.

Doyoung remembers thinking then that _this is it_ , it’s really Yuta for him. It’s not that he ever had doubts about their relationship, but it was being cooped up with him for the first few months since the pandemic hit that made him realize just how uninterested he is in any other life than the one he currently has with Yuta.

“I fucking miss you, Dons.” Yuta’s voice from his laptop speaker takes him away from his thoughts.

Doyoung focuses his gaze on the screen again. “I miss fucking you, too,” he says with a smirk.

Yuta lets out a peal of laughter just as Doyoung hears a startled “ _Jesus Christ!”_ behind him. He whips around quickly to look at his door that he didn’t realize was just pushed open.

“Renjun!”

From his screen, Yuta cackles even louder.

“Mom wanted to know if, uh…” Renjun falters, then runs a hand down his face. “My _god_ , I forgot now!” He looks at Doyoung with a disgusted face.

Doyoung glares at him. “That’s what you get for not learning how to knock!”

Renjun rolls his eyes and leaves his room.

“And that was just an inside joke!” Doyoung calls out to his brother’s retreating footsteps.

When Doyoung turns back to him, Yuta’s clutching his stomach, his face looking so red from secondhand embarrassment.

“I am just not made to make jokes in this world,” Doyoung laments as his boyfriend continues laughing at him.

“For the record, I _do_ miss that, too,” Yuta says.

Doyoung narrows his eyes, even as he can’t help but smile himself. “Oh fuck off,” he says then stomps outside to ask his mom what it was she apparently wanted to know through Renjun, but he doesn’t end the call or close his laptop.

Yuta’s laughter is still ringing out as he closes his bedroom door.

“You know, it’s the first time we’re celebrating New Year’s Eve not physically together,” Doyoung murmurs, holding up his phone over his head. Phoebe’s lying at the foot of his bed, peacefully napping. It’s just after dinner, and he has retreated once again to his bedroom—he and Yuta switching to their phones from the laptop video call.

“I literally think of that everyday,” Yuta says.

“Is it selfish that I wish you’d never gone to Japan at all?”

When the lockdown restrictions finally loosened a little in early August and the government started allowing both domestic and international flights again, they both packed up their bags and decided to come home to visit their families. There’s nothing that holds them down to that apartment anyway apart from each other, and even if they went home to their families, they’d still be able to visit each other considering they just live in the same town—so they locked the apartment behind them, Phoebe in her cat carrier clutched in Doyoung’s hand, and took the long trip home.

What they didn’t expect is that the last day quarantined at the airport as they were awaiting the results of their swab tests was actually the last time they’d see each other in a while.

Shortly after coming home, Yuta’s grandparents insisted that their sons and daughters and grandchildren all come to Japan—which would have been quite heartwarming, Doyoung guesses, if there wasn’t a virus literally going around the world. But Yuta’s parents wanted to appease them, so after a thorough testing and week-long documentation processing, they finally flew to Osaka.

Now the lockdown is in full force again after another surge of cases hit the country, and Doyoung has already stopped hoping that they’d get to be together again before the year ends.

“Is it selfish that I wish you and Phoebe came with me?” Yuta asks.

“Not at all,” Doyoung answers. He switches his camera so it shows Phoebe’s curled sleeping form, tummy rising ever so slightly as she breathes in and out.

“I hate this,” Yuta scowls. “I mean, of course I’m happy that I’m with my family. It’s just… _you_.”

“I know,” Doyoung says. “But you know, the vaccines are here. It’s not too long till this is all over.”

Yuta smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, I really hope so.”

A notification slides down Doyoung’s phone screen then, showing a message from Renjun to join them downstairs for the countdown. “Hey, it’s almost midnight here now,” Doyoung says as he stands up from bed.

“Livestream the fireworks for me?”

“You bet.”

“Please go to sleep now,” Yuta says, holding back a yawn himself.

“It feels so wrong, not spending New Year’s with you,” Doyoung mumbles quietly.

“I’m _here_ , Dons. And I’m there too, in spirit.”

Doyoung chuckles. “Okay, it really is time to sleep when you start spouting shit like that.” He props his phone up on his nightstand, giving a small smile to his front camera. “Good night, Yuta.”

“Good night, _I’ll be here_ ,” Yuta whispers back.

Doyoung rolls to his side—the faint sound of Yuta’s breath and his sheets’ quiet rustle being picked up by the microphone from his end, travelling directly to Doyoung’s own speakers, slowly lulling him to sleep.

When he wakes up on New Year’s day, Yuta’s still there just like he promised, smiling at Doyoung through his phone screen and amidst the low battery notice glaring in front. Doyoung dismisses it with a tap.

“Good morning,” Doyoung sleepily murmurs. “Why didn’t you end the call?”

“I told you I’d stay, didn’t I?” Yuta says.

“Yeah, you did,” Doyoung answers with a smile. “Happy New Year, baby.”

_2015_

Yuta leans back against one of the columns in the kitchen, half of his brain wondering where Jaehyun could have run off to, while the other half is thinking— _holy shit_ , an actual pillar indoors?

“Hey,” someone calls out from his left. Yuta turns to find the voice.

“Whoa, for a moment I thought you were Taeyong! You kind of have the same haircut,” the voice says to him.

Yuta squints at the figure against the dancing Christmas lights around his eyes. “Mark? I thought this was a seniors-only party.”

Mark smiles at him, one hand going up to scratch his temple. “Uh, Johnny brought me, lol.”

“Did you just say ‘lol’ out loud?” Yuta asks, laughing, his eyes absent-mindedly roaming through the crowd. _God_ , Jaehyun probably got someone pressed up against one of these house’s seemingly unlimited branching hallways by now—meanwhile, here’s Yuta, left alone with a sophomore for company. (Not that he has anything against Johnny’s little brother.)

His eyes suddenly catch on something— _someone_. It’s hard not to let his gaze linger on the boy, really—he’s _cute_ but it’s not even that, it’s the glowing bluetooth speaker propped beside him that’s spotlighting his face from below. Yuta stares for a long second, knowing that he’s supposed to _know_ him, because he certainly sees that face around in school, but right now he can’t put a name to the face.

“Hey, do you know who that is?” he nudges Mark, pointing at the boy’s general direction.

“Uhh, Santa Claus?” Mark says slowly, giving him an incredulous look.

Yuta rolls his eyes, chuckling. “ _No_! The guy on the couch, beside the figurine! _God_ , Mark.”

“Oh! That’s Kim Doyoung,” Mark says, chuckling with him.

“Huh, do you know him well?” Yuta asks, nonchalant.

“ _Ohhh_ , I see,” Mark says in a teasing voice, ignoring Yuta’s question.

Yuta scoffs, “You don’t see no shit, Mark. Your eyes literally focused on Santa Claus when I obviously pointed at a person.”

Mark just bursts out laughing. “Hey, I love Santa! And I do know Doyoung. Hyuck and I worked with him in last year’s musical. _Dude,_ he always answers rhetorical questions!”

Yuta snorts, feeling his eyebrows knit at the same time. What a weird fact to remember about someone.

Mark shakes his head at him, hitting his chest slightly in a _dude, you gotta believe this_ gesture. “I swear, it’s become, like, a game among the cast and staff. We’d ask him all these obvious questions and he seems, like, physically incapable of not answering them.”

Yuta lets out a quiet laugh, his lips almost unconsciously stretching out into a wide grin at how this random fact is already endearing him to the boy from across the room, who looks so bored as he scrolls frenziedly through his phone. Well, that fact paired with _that_ face, of course.

“Thanks,” Yuta says, thumping Mark’s chest and handing him his red solo cup.

“Uhh…” he hears Mark stutter.

“Don’t worry, that’s just iced tea,” Yuta says with an amused smirk, walking purposefully towards the living room.

**Author's Note:**

> \- i lowkey hated 2017 so that's all she got from me  
> \- it feels so surreal writing that 2020 scene, i feel like my slice of life au just became a dystopian one with talks of 'lockdown', 'virus', and 'vaccines'. it still feels weird that that's the reality we've been living in for almost a whole year now.  
> \- thank you for reading this fic, and all the others i've published from the past few months. i didn't think i'd get back to writing again, but i'm happy i did it this year and for NCT at that.  
> \- this one's for the doyu nation :D i hope you enjoyed! please let me know your thoughts <3
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/softfordoyu/status/1344661611210936323?s=19) / [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/dyintherain)


End file.
